A Waltz in the Dark (Norway + OC Hetalia fanfiction)

Chapter 2

Norway sipped the foam off of his steaming second cup of coffee, glancing over his 5,000 word long email to his bosses and making some quick edits.

Or, more specifically, rephrasing sentences he knew they would take offensively, even if they spoke the truth.

Sometimes being a country was very burdening. He didn't know if it was just him or if all the other countries felt the same way, but it was like he was just there to agree with all of his bosses' plans and then be the answer to all their problems when their plans predictably failed. It was irritating, but it was the role he was forced to play, for when he told them the truth plainly he was accused of rebellion, and they rarely listened when he spoke gently. At least he had things he could control: like teaching, for instance. That was one of the many reasons he took up the career. It was easy to make a difference when you actually had a group in front of you to influence and teach, instead of a country that nearly felt figurative at times.

But was he even an influence in the classroom anymore?

Closing his laptop, he reached into his satchel and pulled out his notebook for the first class. He opened to the notes he made for that day's lecture, skimming over them wearily. It was only day two of the class and he was tired.

He took another long drink of his favorite caffeinated beverage, shaking his head, then smoothing his hair from his eyes and adjusting his barrette. He glanced around the campus cafe. It was busy, but that was to be expected, since class began in half an hour. Most of the tables were full.

Except for the ones surrounding him, he noted.

He glanced at his watch, and then at his notes, and then at the chattering people surrounding him.

I may as vell go to the hall. It'll be quieter there, anyvay.

He stood, putting his laptop into it's place in his multipurpose satchel. Picking up his to-go mug, he strolled toward the exit without looking back.

As soon as he stepped out into the cold, early September air, he relaxed. He took a deep breath as he headed down the sidewalk, further onto the campus. Winter was on it's way. He took another breath and closed his eyes. A storm was brewing, he realized, but whether the realization came through magic or instincts, he couldn't tell. And that made him suddenly nervous. He stopped at the crosswalk, pressing the button and waiting to cross the street, the lecture hall just opposite of him. To his left was a homeless man. Norway glanced at him, but quickly looked away, clenching his teeth together. The older man held a sign in poorly written English which said, "Please help". Norway thought of all of the American students who had probably already given him money.

Yust so he can go spend it on more alcohol.

For some reason the thought reminded him of Denmark, but then the light turned. He shook his head and crossed the street, forcing his train of thought into submission. He made it to the main lecture building, bounding up the steps. As soon as he entered, he instantly wished he could be outside again. He wondered if it was snow coming later. That vould be a relief. He adjusted his black tie which seemed to have gotten tighter. His suit was too heavy and he regretted wearing it. Most Professors didn't bother wearing suits anymore. Casual clothes were more comfortable, and the point of the life was to be comfortable, right?

Norway grimaced. But maybe a suit was a little much, especially since it was so warm inside.

By the time he made it to his class he was completely zoned out. He walked in on autopilot, going to stand behind the desk and setting down his satchel. It wasn't until after he had linked up his laptop to the projector and sat down in his chair that he realized there was somebody else in the lecture hall.

He stared at her.

It was the girl who had come in late yesterday.

She sat in the same seat she had before, her notebook and pen in front of her. He looked at the clock. It was only 8:45.

She looked up at him and met his gaze.

"Came too early this time," she said with a shrug. And then she focused again on the novel in her hands.

Norway wasn't sure how to reply, so he didn't.

He cleared his throat and then glanced around. What was he doing?

Blinking twice, he snatched up his notes and read through them, glancing up at the girl every once in awhile. He could see her perfectly from his position behind the desk. She had wavy, beige-blonde hair, pale skin, and dark blue eyes. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't place it. She had a round face and nose, broad shoulders, and extremely long legs. But other than that she seemed average, so he pushed away the familiarity. He'd probably met hundreds of blonde hair, blue-eyed girls throughout the centuries.

But his mind wouldn't stop searching for her face in his past.

He stared at his notebook, fiddling with his pencil.

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes went to the clock on the wall. It was five minutes 'til. And then he looked down at his desk and saw the paper he had left there yesterday. The list of all the abroad student's names.

Her name would be on there. He scanned it, realizing a moment later that he could just ask her.

"Excuse me, miss?" he spoke up. The girl looked up at him, brushing her hair out of her face. He hesitated. But only for a moment.

"Vhat's your name?"

She smiled.

"My name is M-"

But then the door flew open and banged against the wall, cutting her off. The rest of his class walked in, talking and making a lot of noise in general. But he wasn't looking at them.

He was looking at the list.

There were four girls in the class that's names started with the letter M: Michelle, Marissa, Mary, and Melinda.

He sighed in irritation. He'd have to figure out which one was hers later. He had a class to teach.